The Vegas sun peeking through the windows of the suite is scorching. I’m hot, too damn warm. Prying my eyes open, I blink away the sun. My head is pounding, a sure sign I drank too much last night. I knew I would regret it today, but we were having such a good time. Besides, this could be the last time I’m ever in Vegas, and they say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. However, this headache will be going on the plane with me for sure.
I need to pee. Groaning, I try to move and a hand clamps down on my hip. I start to panic, and then he speaks. “Stop trying to leave, baby. We’re sleeping in,” he mumbles, burying his face in my hair.
“I have to pee,” I moan, because I seriously need to relieve my bladder.
“Fine, but come back to bed,” he says, kissing my neck and releasing his hold on me. Sliding from underneath the covers, I discover I’m naked. Flashes of last night slowly filter through my mind. Me on top, Rhett hovering over me. Shaking off the memory, I run to the bathroom in all my naked glory to take care of business. Stopping at the sink to wash my hands and brush my teeth, I gasp when I see a diamond band on my ring finger. What. The. Fuck. “Rhett!” I yell.
I hear his feet thump as they hit the floor and his heavy footsteps, and then the bathroom door flies open. “What is it? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He fires off questions, running his hands through his hair.
“This!” I hold up my left hand.
“Okay, it’s a ring.” He shrugs.
“A ring,” I scoff. “This was not here last night when we went out.”
He scrunches up his forehead, as if he’s thinking. “So we bought it last night,” he says, still not getting what I’m saying.
“Rhett!” I stomp my foot and cringe at my own voice. “Give me your hand.” I hold mine out, palm up. He places his hand in mine. “The other one,” I say, holding my breath. Maybe I did just buy a ring. Although it looks real, so he would have had to of bought it for me. Hope starts to rise until he gives me his left hand and my suspicion is confirmed. “No, no, no, no,” I chant, dropping his hand and rushing past him. I survey the room and see nothing out of place. Hurrying out to the living area, I scan until I see a white envelope on the counter. Rushing to it, I flip it over, and sure enough, the logo for “The Little White Wedding Chapel” adorns the font. “Fuck,” I say, defeated.
“We’re married,” he says from behind me.
I nod. “Yeah,” I confirm.
He sits on the couch and rests his elbows on his knees, burying his hands in his hair. “I remember bits and pieces of last night. That couple at the fountain, they were headed to the chapel and invited us along.”
I plop down on the couch beside him and close my eyes. “Yeah,” I agree as the nights starts coming back to me. “They were so excited; their enthusiasm was contagious.”
“We’re married,” he says again.
“How do we fix this?” I ask him, opening my eyes to see him still hunched over, elbows on his knees.
He raises his head and looks at me. “Why do we have to fix it?”
“Rhett, come on. We got married. We’re not even dating.”
“We could be,” he counters.
“But the fact remains we’re not. Don’t you have some fancy lawyer you can call to make this go away?”
“Yeah, I’ll take care of it,” he says, his voice flat. “We need to get to the airport. Our flight leaves in two hours.”
“Right. When we get home, we have to figure this mess out. I’ll hold on to these,” I say, holding the envelope up that I’m sure holds our marriage license. Standing, I drag my hungover, newly married ass to my room to shower and pack.
Thirty minutes later, I find Rhett in the main living area, his carryon beside him. “I called a car. It’s waiting to take us to the airport.” He hands me a bottle of water. “You hungry?”
“I’ll just grab something at the airport. The last thing we need is to miss our flight.”
He nods and reaches for my bag. “I got it,” I say a little more heated than necessary. This whole marriage thing is messing with me.
“Saylor,” he sighs. “Let me have your bag. We need to go,” he says, reaching out again.
This time I let him take it. I notice his wedding band when he does. Absentmindedly, I run my thumb over mine. I started to take it off, but it looks expensive, and I didn’t want to risk losing it. Surely, he can sell it or maybe return it. “Thanks,” I mumble.
The ride to the airport is quiet. I don’t know what to say, and I’m sure neither does he. I mean, we got drunk and got married, what do you say to that? We make it through security and to our gate with limited talking, just enough to get us to where we need to be.
“I’m going to run and get something to eat. What do you want?” he asks me.
“Anything, and coffee, please.”
He gives my knee a gentle squeeze before standing and walking away. I don’t take my eyes off of him until he disappears into the crowd of people.
“Your husband’s very handsome,” the little lady sitting next to me says. “You all are quite the pair.” She smiles warmly.
How do I explain he’s not really my husband, when technically he is? It’s not worth the stress of the conversation. “Thank you,” I say instead. Fuck it, can’t beat them, join them.
“You remind me a lot of my Harold and me when we were younger. He was the love of my life,” she says. “We have four children and nine grandchildren,” she boasts proudly. She continues to tell me about her grandson’s graduation, which is why she’s flying to West Virginia; he goes to college at Virginia Tech.
Rhett returns with two bagels and two piping hot cups of coffee. “Be careful, it’s really hot,” he tells me.
I want to smart off that I’m an adult and know how to drink a hot beverage, but he’s being sincere. I need to keep my bad attitude in check. He didn’t force me to marry him. Hell, from what I remember, I was all in on our impromptu nuptials.
“I was just telling your wife what a lovely couple you are,” my new friend tells Rhett.
“Thank you.” He gives her one of his panty-dropping smiles before taking his seat next to me and digging into his breakfast.
“How long have you been married?” she asks.
“Newlyweds,” Rhett says before I can form an answer.
“Oh, how wonderful. My Harold and I fell fast and hard. We married after courting just four weeks. My daddy was so angry, said we were too young, but I knew he was it for me. When you know, you know.” She sighs. “How long have you been together?” she asks. She’s oblivious or just doesn’t care that we really aren’t engaging her, just answering her questions. Normally, I would be, but the topic of conversation stresses me the hell out.
“A few months,” Rhett answers.
I want to give him the look, you know the one that tells him to shut his mouth, but I don’t have the energy. Besides, chances are we’ll never see this woman again.
“How romantic,” she gushes. “Words of wisdom, never go to bed angry, and never sleep alone. I mean, you don’t get married to sleep alone, right?” She wags her eyebrows.
I can’t help but laugh at her antics. Thankfully, we’re saved from further questioning when they call to board first class. It’s terrible of me, but I hold my breath, hoping she remains seated. She does, allowing me to breathe easy.
“It was nice meeting you.” Rhett stands and grabs our bags. I follow him to the line and onto the plane. “You want the window seat again?” he asks.
“I plan on sleeping, so it doesn’t matter to me.”
“I’ll take the aisle, that way you don’t have to worry about people bumping into you,” he says sweetly.
I take my seat; we’re in the very front row again. I immediately pull the shade closed on the window and buckle myself in. My thoughts wonder to the flight here and Rhett’s means of distraction. My anxiety spikes, not really knowing what to expect for takeoff. He had me too distracted to take notice.
Rhett settles in his seat and buckles up. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah, just nervous about takeoff,” I admit.
Reaching over, he laces his fingers through mine. I can feel the metal of his wedding band against my palm. “You want me to distract you?” he whispers. He’s got his head resting against the seat, turned toward me. I do the same. It’s an intimate position, but I need him right now. I know my fear is irrational, but it’s there nonetheless.
“Maybe,” I answer, not taking my eyes off his.
The flight attendant takes down her microphone and gives us her speech about safety and seat belt signs and emergency procedures. I listen but never look away from him. “Just breath, Say,” he whispers as the plane begins to taxi down the runway.
As the plane starts to lift, I feel my panic grow. “K-kiss me, p-please,” I say, fighting through the fear.
With one hand holding tight to mine, the other lifts and cups my cheek. He leans in, and I meet him halfway. I close my eyes and get lost in him, in Rhett, my husband. When the plane levels out, he pulls away. He brushes my hair out of my eyes. “Better?” he asks. I nod, unable to speak. With his hand on my head, he guides me to rest against his shoulder. “Sleep,” he says softly.
I settle against him and close my eyes. I can’t believe we got married; I’m leaning against my husband. My heart hurts that it’s not real. To be able to spend my life with him. To truly be a part of his family… they’re amazing, and it would be a privilege to be a part of it. Looking back, I’ll be able to say I was wild and crazy and got married in Vegas.
“Miss,” I hear Rhett asks. “Can I get a blanket for my wife?” he asks softly.
His wife.
My husband.
I fight to keep my eyes closed. Why is he referring to me as his wife? We’re married, but it isn’t real. I feel him drape the cover over me. “Sleep, baby,” he says, his lips brushing across my forehead.
I’m too tired to figure it out. We can do that when we get home. Right now, I just want to sleep off the aftereffect of Vegas and snuggle up to my husband. Might be the last time I have the chance.